


Things That Go Bump in the Night

by CharlotteAshmore



Series: Love Letters verse [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 19:01:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2439398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlotteAshmore/pseuds/CharlotteAshmore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AquaJasmine23 prompted...Love Letters verse, SMUT, Bae walks in on them.<br/>So here it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things That Go Bump in the Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AquaJasmine23](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AquaJasmine23/gifts).



> DISCLAIMER: Sadly, I do not own OUAT or its characters. This is just for fun and not meant to infringe on any copyrights.
> 
> A/N: This is a little o/s written in the “Love Letters” verse. It is in appreciation of the 500th review I received on ffnet. Thank you to all my reviewers and I really hope you enjoy this. It’s smutty, so if it’s not your thing, DON’T read. This takes place between the first and second sections in Chapter 29. Thanks AquaJasmine23 for the prompt. And I owe a special thank you *hugs and kisses* to Emilie Brown for the awesome sauce cover!!!

       “Are you falling asleep on me, sweetling?” Rumpelstiltskin asked, untying the garter above her left knee and rolling the heavy wool stocking down her leg, pausing for a moment to press his lips to the inside of her knee.  He pulled it off and ran his tongue over the arch of her foot.  She giggled and tried to pull away.

       “Of course not, no,” she sighed, relaxing back against the pillows.  She giggled again as her second stocking disappeared and he did the same to her right foot.  “How could I possibly sleep when my husband is teasing me?”  She sat up wearily and tugged on the laces at the front of her gown with its corset-style bodice, loosening it enough to pull the garment over her head and toss it aside.  With a flick of her wrist, she extinguished the oil lamps before reaching for her husband.

       He toed his boots off, thankful he’d foregone the ones he usually wore that laced up to his knees and pulled her into the circle of his arms, finding her lips with his.  Moonlight streamed in through the open curtains, bathing the bed in its ethereal glow, illuminating the pale expanse of his chest as she pushed his shirt off his shoulders.  “Maybe we shouldn’t,” he said, drawing away from her, his warm sable eyes filled with uncertainty.

       Belle brushed the hair away that had fallen into his eyes, her fingertips toying with the straight locks.  He looked so different in his human form…not necessarily bad, just different.  She missed the green gold hue of his skin and his overlarge amber irises that so readily filled with passion and promise when she touched him.  “I want to touch you, Rumpel,” she breathed in a throaty whisper, dipping her head to kiss the hollow of his throat.  “Let me make you feel better.  We both need this.”

       He seemed no more comfortable in this form than he did with his scales, but he acquiesced to her request and lay back against the pillows, clad only in his leather trousers.  She settled at his side and rested her hand over his heart, opening the bond and letting her love flow into him, her magic curling and spiraling through his very veins.  He arched into her touch, her name nearly unintelligible on his lips as he rumbled happily, a smile of pure bliss blooming on his face.  The emotional turmoil he’d been suffering all day drained out of him, leaving him boneless and languid and bringing an answering smile to her own lips.

       Her husband shifted restlessly beneath her questing hands and she could feel him hardening against her hip as her lips trailed along the sensitive flesh of his neck.  Her tongue swirled around his earlobe before nipping lightly, her warm breath sending a shiver of pleasure rippling down his spine.  She sent another pulse of energy through the bond and he moaned helplessly.  “I love you,” she whispered, her tongue, teeth and lips biting, suckling and leaving a path of fire from his ear to the sharp bones of his clavicle.  “I want you so much, my darling.”

       “Belle… _mine_ …love you,” he whimpered, his arms crushing her to him as he sought her petal soft mouth, his tongue delving in to taste.  He could drink from her lips forever, her flavor headier than the finest wine.  A surge of beastly pride, something primitive and feral, rose in him.  She was his…forever.  No one would ever touch her as he did, love her as fiercely as he did nor ever wring such delicious sounds from her sweet throat.  In turn, only she had the ability to turn him into a mindless beast or the gentlest of lovers.  His dagger wasn’t needed, for she controlled him as the blade never could.  As he’d shown her, the dagger could and would control his will, but his lovely wife _commanded_ his heart, making him her willing slave.

       Belle’s smile was positively wicked as her tongue flicked against his flat nipple, her nails raking over its twin and giving a playful twist with just the right amount of pressure he favored.  His hips bucked wildly against her as she drew it into her mouth and grazed her teeth over the taut bud.  She opened the bond wider so he would get the full blast of her emotions, all the love and desire she felt at that moment flooding into to him and then following with a wave of calm that left his breathless and panting and aching for more.

       “More, Belle…please, love…need…” he moaned, his hands caressing the smooth curve of her hip, wrinkling and bunching the fabric of her thin shift.  It wasn’t often that he gave her such control over him in bed and Belle was determined to take advantage of the power at her fingertips.  This was different from the magic she wielded…this was need and love and desire for the only man she’d ever let herself love, the only man truly worthy of her love and to show him with her magic and her body what was in her heart was a gift beyond measure.

       Rumpelstiltskin stilled beneath her as her tongue traced the groove of a deep scar beneath his ribs below his heart.  He watched, stunned as she drew back, her brow creased and her bottom lip caught between her teeth before ghosting the lightest of butterfly kisses along its length.  In his cursed form, his scars were easy to banish with a bit of magic, but here…in this land, his curse dormant…they were on display for her perusal.

       “Belle, you don’t—“ he began, but her lips, moving over the flat plane of his belly to his right hip and another scar for her to decorate with kisses, cut him off.

       “Hush, darling,” she crooned, “don’t think…just feel.”  He was helpless to obey as another long wisp of golden magic flooded his veins, making his heart race in his chest.  His hands fisted in the bedclothes as she slipped lower, straddling his thighs as her nose nuzzled his navel and her lips left hot open-mouthed kisses over his lower belly.  A hand to the center of his chest kept him from rising as she swiftly unlaced his trousers and dipped her hand inside to free him from the restraining garment.  “Shh, let me.”

       The breath hitched in his chest as she met his gaze, want, need and a burning passion for him glowing with golden fire from the deep cerulean pools of her eyes and she tugged his trousers down past his hips and over his legs to join the rest of their clothes on the floor.  “Belle, please love, you don’t have to do—“  Her touch robbed him of speech as her hot little hand wrapped tightly around his length and it took every ounce of control to stop himself from thrusting up into her grasp.

       “I know that, but I want to.  It’s your turn to be at _my_ mercy and I don’t plan to give you any until you’re thoroughly wrecked, my love,” she teased, reveling in the deep moans escaping his lips as she swirled her thumb around the tip of his cock, spreading the moisture leaking from the head.

       His eyes were blown wide with desire, only a thin strip of sable brown showing around enormous pools of black, unable to look away as she lowered her mouth and drew him inside.  He nearly bit clean through his tongue, the sharp metallic taste of his own blood flooding his mouth as she used her tongue to press the head of his cock to the roof of her mouth before taking him deeper.  His back bowed into an arch as her other hand gently cupped his balls, her fingertips like ice.

       “Belle!  H-How… _FUCK_ _…_ how are you d-doing that…GODS!…” he stammered incoherently, realizing she was using her magic to control the differing temperatures in her hands.

       Her tongue stroked him from root to tip, flicking, swirling…devouring him, one hot hand at the base of his shaft and one icy one caressing his sac, the contrast between heat and cold more than he could bear.  No one had ever done this for him before, not like this…hell, not ever…especially not his first wife, never having been brave enough to ask her for such a favor, but this…what Belle was doing to him was more than he could have felt with any other woman.  He howled as she switched hands, now the icy one clasped firmly around his cock as she moved more forcefully on him and he lost the battle with his self-control and thrust up as she came down.

       “I’m s-sorry,” he panted, his hands cradling her face as he pulled her away from his groin, so afraid he might have hurt her.

       “For what?” she asked with a smug smile as he leaned in and brushed her lips to his.  “I like making you lose yourself like that.  I could feel you losing control through our bond, feel what you felt with every stroke of my tongue.  To know that _I’m_ bringing you such pleasure…”

       He pulled her forward and they both gasped as the head of his cock collided with her clit, heat flooding through the bond from both ends.  She pushed him back just long enough to yank the shift over her head and toss it to the floor before she was back in his arms, pressed breast to chest, skin to skin, every nerve ending in her body screaming for release.  The delicious pressure that had been steadily building in her lower belly made the ache between her thighs burgeon into a pleasurable pain as he slid between her folds, her clit throbbing each time his length bumped it.  His mouth devoured hers before his hot tongue rasped over the patch of skin behind her left ear that turn her into a writhing mass of quivering nerves.

       She pushed him back against the pillows, reaching between them and guiding him into her, her inner muscles clenching around him and drawing him deeper.  She tossed her head back with a cry to feel him slide home, remaining still for just a moment as her muscles shifted to accommodate his girth, the friction sending a violent shiver tripping along her spine to settle in her lower back.

       His hands spanned her waist and slid over her curves until he could grasp the swell of her ass, his voice raspy and wrecked as he pleaded, “Please, Belle…”  She didn’t disappoint him as she rocked her hips forward and then rose up on her knees to fall forward once again, her thighs trembling as she fought to set a steady rhythm.  He thrust up into her as she came down again, and the sound that emerged from him was something between a rumble and a deep feral growl.

       He threw his head back into the pillows, his climax fast approaching as her nails made little half-moons in the flesh of his abdomen.  He felt all the tension that had plagued him throughout the day, cast down and crushed beneath her boot heel, her love, her magic enveloping him until there was nothing but her.  “Belle…”

       The door crashing into the bedroom wall was like a bucket of ice water tossed over his head…

 

X*X*X*X*X

 

       Baelfire yawned widely as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and ran a hand over his face, trying to banish the sleep from his eyes.  He got up and relieved himself and then left the room in search of a drink of water, remembering the pitcher on the dining table from earlier.  He didn’t know why he was having trouble sleeping, whether it was that the bed was too soft or the worry he still harbored over his father and the thought of returning to the Enchanted Forest.

       Was it even possible for them to have a normal life while Rumpelstiltskin was still under the curse of the Dark One?  Would he keep his word and let him go if he wished to leave?  The questions swirling through his mind were endless and beginning to make his head ache from the strain of trying to find answers where there were none.  And what of this woman his father claimed to be his True Love?  She was barely older than Baelfire.  How was he supposed to see her as his new mother?  Belle was sweet and gentle and kind and he’d takin an instant like to her, but what if she was only with his father because of his power?  He banished the thought with a vigorous shake of his head.  No, she didn’t seem the type.  Perhaps he would feel more at ease if he took the chance to get to know her, he thought, sipping at the water in his goblet.

       He’d surely been in shock to come out of the bathroom to find his father kissing her.  He’d never thought to see Rumpelstiltskin openly show affection for _anyone_ …not after his mother had run off with that pirate and then gotten herself killed.  She’d never been much of a mother anyway, he thought bitterly.  And what had his father meant when he’d said Belle had taken on a part of his curse?  Was that even possible?  He set the goblet back on the tray next to the pitcher and turned to go back to his room, hoping he’d be able to go back to sleep fairly easily, when he heard it…a deep moan that sounded like his father were in the very throes of agony.

       Baelfire turned wide desperate eyes to the door of his father’s bedroom as the sound came again, this time louder and more mournful.  What if he’d fallen and hurt his leg again or with the curse dormant, what if his body was having a bad reaction and he was in pain?  Without thinking of anything but coming to his father’s aid, he ran around an armchair, vaulted over the settee he’d been sitting on earlier in the evening and literally crashed into the solid oak door, groaning himself at the pain that shot through his shoulder as he reached for the handle and flung the barrier out of his way.

       For a moment it was as if time had stopped, Rumpelstiltskin’s eyes growing wide as saucers as his gaze swung between his wife and son.  Baelfire’s mouth opened, his lip trembling as he gaped at his father and stepmother…without a stitch on…Belle straddling… Time seemed to unfreeze in a blur of unnatural color as the sorcerer grabbed his wife about the waist and rolled them off the bed as the boy clapped a hand tightly over his closed eyes.

       The mage landed flat on his back atop the carpet and the pile of clothes they’d discarded earlier, a loud _oomph_ rushing past his lips as Belle landed heavily upon him.

       “Papa, are you ok?” Baelfire asked in a horrified whisper…all he could manage at the moment.  “I heard you moaning and I thought you’d injured yourself…um…” he trailed off, his cheeks hot with his mortification.

       “He would have been in another minute or two,” Belle snarked dryly, biting back a giggle at the discomfort evident on her husband’s face.

       “Belle!”

       “What? He’s fifteen.  Are you telling me you never had _the talk_ with him?” she asked incredulously.

       “Of course I did.”

       She wiggled her brows at him.  “Well I suppose he was bound to walk in on us sooner or later.  Best to get it out the way now.  Then when we get home we will install locks on all the bloody doors!” she snickered

“Reminds me of the time I walked in on Sarah and Marcus after they’d first married.  She couldn’t look at me for a week afterwards.”

       “Oh Gods!” he groaned.  “That’s a mental image I could have well done without, dearie.”

Belle sat up and peeked over the edge of the bed, her face just as red as her stepson’s as she reached for Rumpelstiltskin’s shirt and hastily yanked it on to cover herself.  Her husband scowled at her as she tossed him his trousers, one leg slapping against his cheek when he wasn’t fast enough to catch them.  He pulled them on, peeking over the mattress at his boy.  Heat rode high in his own cheeks, but he couldn’t help be touched by his son’s concern.

“You can look now, Bae,” Rumpelstiltskin said, a rueful smirk adorning his mouth as his son hesitantly lowered his hand.

Baelfire grimaced as he stared at his parents still sitting on the floor on the other side of the bed.  “I’m really sorry, papa.  I didn’t…um…think that…soooo sorry, Belle.”

“It’s alright, Bae.  You walking in on us wasn’t any worse than being caught by my father and six of his knights,” she replied with a wry twist of her lips.

Baelfire’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open again.  “You’re joking, right?” He looked to his groaning father for reassurance.  “She’s joking, isn’t she, papa?”

Rumpelstiltskin climbed to his feet and went to the chair where he’d tossed their rucksack, rummaging inside until he found his nightshirt and Belle’s lacy dressing robe.  He stepped back to her side and held it out so she could slip her arms into it.  “I truly wish she were, son, but alas no.”

“Gah, papa! Just what have you been up to while I’ve been away?”

“It’s a long story, Bae…one left for later if you don’t mind.”

Belle grinned at her stepson and prayed this wouldn’t ruin her chances of befriending him.  Her shot as his stepmother was no doubt thoroughly out the window, but…she could hope.

Baelfire glanced down at his feet, still blushing furiously.  “Well, I…ah…think I’ll go…um…back to bed.  I promise next time I hear strange noises in the middle of the night I’ll knock.”

As the door closed behind him, Belle stood up and removed her dressing gown once more and crawled up onto the mattress, still wearing the Rumpelstiltskin’s silk shirt, yawning as she collapsed wearily onto her pillow and hugged it tightly.  “Well that was fun.”

“What?!” her husband asked, awed that she was taking this so well.

“Sarcasm, love.  I would think you of all people would recognize it,” she said in a saucy tone.

Rumpelstiltskin shucked his pants off and crawled into bed beside her, spooning against her back.  “I’m sorry I forgot to lock the door, sweetheart,” he crooned, his voice a soothing caress as he kissed the nape of her neck.  “I promise not to be so careless again.  Do you…ah…think we might pick up where we left off?” he asked hopefully.

“Our son killed the mood, love.”  She turned over and placed a chaste kiss to his gaping mouth before snuggling up with her pillow once more.

A needy whimper escaped his lips as he pressed his half hard erection against the cleft of her butt.  “But—“

“Goodnight, Rumpel,” she sighed, her speech slurred as she drifted towards the comforting arms of sleep.

He pulled the coverlet over them and groaned, burying his face in her hair to breathe her in, succeeding in only making him want her more.  All because of a stupid lock, he had to do without.   _Well._ _Just._ _Shit!_

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So hope you enjoyed it, my lovelies. Thanks so much for reading. Drop me a line and tell me what you think lol xoxox


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